


Passage of Time

by PallasRubiaOrigins



Category: Labyrinth (1986)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-13 05:42:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28648494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PallasRubiaOrigins/pseuds/PallasRubiaOrigins
Summary: Sarah is a lawyer and dates Jareth. One night, after 10 years, she takes a decision.
Relationships: Jareth & Sarah Williams
Comments: 6
Kudos: 27





	Passage of Time

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own anything related to the movie Labyrinth (1986).  
> I am not making any money from writing this story, it is merely meant to amuse myself and others.  
> Please do not repost my stories without my consent.

The bathroom light was stark and too bright for her sleepy eyes and she squinted and yawned again.

Looking in the large mirror, she ran her hands over her chest. Her nipples were hard. How long had they been that way? When was the last time they had been relaxed?

She had no idea what had caused him to seek her out ten years ago. It had been over 20 years after her run and although she would muse about that experience from time to time, her mind had been almost fully occupied by her job at her father's law firm, where she had started working after finishing college. Having no inclination to start a family, she had turned into the epitome of a workaholic.

His offer of a contract for a year-and-a-day – physical pleasure only – had sounded exactly like the distraction she needed. She had hammered out a couple of clauses herself to level the playing field somewhat – she wasn't a lawyer for nothing. Especially her clause on consent had been a stroke of genius, giving her a power she relished wielding over him.

He was dangerous, that was unmistakable. When they kissed, she let his tongue roam her mouth, but she never ventured into his. His teeth were too sharp to risk it. She had more easily gotten used to him watching her sleeping. But waking up to the eerie glow in those owlish eyes sometimes still unsettled her.

When the year-and-a-day had passed, she had expected him to leave without a trace. Such was life. It had been fun while it lasted.

Several months later, she had been standing in the lobby of the Palace hotel, waiting for her best friend to accompany her to the reception thrown in honour of her father's retirement. He hadn't promoted her to be his successor, but she wasn't going to let her disappointment show. Instead, she was exacting subtle revenge on him by showing up with a gay man on her arm, rubbing it in her father's face that she wouldn't follow in his footsteps in more ways than one.

Matteo had been late, which was not at all like him. She had sent him several text messages, to no avail.

Brent Harton, her father's protégé, had spotted her and had started bothering her as usual, with his less-than-subtle innuendo and his sticky gaze never leaving her cleavage.

That's when he had shown up. In the guise of a British gentleman in an expensive three-piece suit no less. He had called her 'love', kissed her cheek, and guided her into the reception as if he knew exactly what he was doing.

There was no new contract. They had continued where they had left off as if the intervening months did not exist.

Things had started changing for her. He had accompanied her more often to parties and receptions, sometimes just taking her to an expensive restaurant, where – such coincidence – someone of importance would spot them. Clients had started asking for her to be put on their accounts. She had steadily risen to the level of partner in the law firm, then decided to start her own firm. Many large clients had followed her.

She had been scandalised when she had realised it was her looks – no doubt enhanced by the magic that surrounded her now daily – and not her brains that were responsible for her newly acquired fame in the legal world. It was a small article in a tabloid newspaper that her friends had laughed about that had made things click in her head. She had gotten over herself quickly, and used the opportunity to solidify her reputation: clients may come to her for her beauty, but they stayed for her acumen.

The sprawling apartment she lived in now was paid for with her own money, earned by working hard. Her life was built on the fruits of her labour. She could be proud of herself.

She never thanked him. Not for the expensive gifts he brought her. Not for the influence his magic had on her life.

She glanced at the dark outline of the figure reclining on her bed, just visible through the open bathroom door.

The light switched off and again her eyes had to adjust to a new level of vision. In the dim glow of the street lights coming in through the small window high up in the wall, she saw him move behind her.

His hands traced her waist and he pressed himself against her back. His skin was always cool against hers.

“What is keeping you here, away from me?”

“The passage of time.”

She felt his erection against her buttocks. Her body reacted instantly and she knew he felt that in return. She didn't concern herself with how it was possible that she was able to match his stamina between the sheets, she just enjoyed it.

She caught him looking at her via the mirror. He raised one of his arched eyebrows.

“What do you want?”

“You.”

“I am forever.”

“Not long at all.”

~~~

Detective Martin Pierce closed the manilla folder containing his notes about the disappearance of Sarah Lynn Williams, attorney-at-law. His investigation had run into nothing but dead ends. There had been no evidence of burglary in her apartment. The cleaning lady had already cleaned the rooms and changed the bedding before anyone had raised the alarm.

His colleagues had told him to file it as a cold case. Sometimes people just did not want to be found.

Cold or not, it was a curious case. He had noticed how her former colleagues had difficulty remembering anything about her. Her friends had told him she had popped up regularly on the society pages of the tabloids – with that British fellow she dated whose name they couldn't quite remember – but when he asked his secretary to look them up for him, she had found only one eight-year-old edition with a blurry photo on page nine. And then that magazine had been misplaced somehow.

Surfing the Internet, he thought he had seen an article about her mother disappearing in a similar way, but then his laptop had frozen and he hadn't been able to find the article again after restarting it.

He got up and filed his notes in the hanging folder between 'Wadon, Peter' and 'Yolong, Mischa'. He then got his coat and headed out for a stiff drink.

He didn't notice the small sprinkle of glitter dripping out of the file drawer when he slapped it closed. Inside, Wadon and Yolong were rubbing shoulders.


End file.
